The next day was the first cappa milking. Ellra half-expected there to be an audience after she had told Ilya. Sure enough, Ilya and Condo and a handful of enlisted stopped by after breakfast to watch. They were slightly disappointed by how boring the task was to watch but were still interested in what Ellra had to say as she worked.
The machine, smaller than an astromech droid, hummed as it created suction in two hoses that led to a twenty liter jug. At the other end of the hoses were soft rubber cups that were held gently to the female cappas' udders by Ellra, kneeling under their shaggy, low bellies.
"What's it look like under there?" asked one of the enlisted, fancying himself the funniest guy present.
"A shag carpet with four tits," said Ellra calmly, surprising everyone with her choice of language.
Ilya's laugh echoed off the hillsides like a small explosion.
"Laugh, but I couldn't put it simpler," explained Ellra, looking over her shoulder at those present. "She has four palm-sized udders down here, each surrounded by thick, warm fur, which protects the tender parts from harm. Sometimes a calf actually has trouble getting its mouth around an udder and we have to cut the hair away to make it easier."
"Why is this fascinating?" asked another of the soldiers to her companion.
The companion shrugged and said, "I just like animals."
"When will there be actual calves we can come out and pet?" asked Ilya, playfully rattling the gate.
"Probably in a week, a week and a half," said Ellra, turning off the machine as the jug was full.
She switched jugs and turned the machine to another cow, this one so tall Ellra could stand to hold the milking cups to her belly. As she worked, Ellra continued explaining about the milk to her audience.
The milk itself was pearly pink, and incredibly thick, almost viscous. To be drunk by people, it needed to be watered down by about 60%. It was incredibly nutritious, and contained an almost unnatural amount of protein. Part of the reason it would be so beneficial to the Resistance members was its versatility: it could be cooked in food, made into desserts, and drunk. It took weeks to spoil unrefrigerated, so it could actually be carried in bottles as energy food. Since most military food was shipped in from across the galaxy, people got tired of preserved meats and canned vegetables. The prospect of rich, fresh puddings and soups made everyone's mouths water.
"Can I try some?" asked the fascinated soldier.
Ellra chuckled.
"I had a feeling that would come up. Ilya, those cups, please," she said, gesturing to a box of disposable cups beside the gate.
Several people lined up beside the sleepy cow as Ellra hand-squeezed one big slurp into each cup.
"It's bitter!" yelled Ilya, making a face.
"You have to dilute it to taste good," laughed Ellra at the faces around her.
"I like it," said Condo. "Reminds me of milk from my home!"
"Kind of nutty," said the fascinated soldier, swirling her cup.
"Here's the important question," said her companion. "What kind of cocktails can we make with it?"
Ellra chuckled, returning to her work.
"I promise to show you guys a couple of good drinks if you can bring me old, rich, dark distilled beverages."
"Corellian whiskey!"
"Moro rum!"
Several people had suggestions and they looked forward to trying the new drinks.
Eight of the cows needed milking that day. Ellra's audience had completely dispersed by the time lunch was over, leaving her alone with her animals and her thoughts. The work was familiar and she didn't even notice the day passing.
Instead of going inside to eat, Ellra simply drank a glass of cappa milk for her lunch. It tasted like home, filling her belly with warmth and her heart with a longing to see her family. She was glad no one was around anymore because the tears came faster than she could feel them and there was nothing she could do. She sank to her knees beside the cow she was milking and sobbed quietly into the silky coat. The cow lowed sympathetically, but didn't offer any other support.
There was no fear. She knew she was safe and surrounded by friends. But the part of her tied to her village, her people, was mourning, missing. She missed her father's face, her cousin's obnoxious laugh, the sound of the merchants' wagons winding down the road in the middle of the night. She missed the smell of the sand as the sun rose over it in the summer. She missed the taste of wild berries plucked from the vine while out with her herd.
She let out a small sob and nuzzled her face deeper into the cappa's coat. Her heart hurt.
"You suck it straight out of the titties?" called a familiar voice, incredulous and shaking with laughter.
Ellra snorted through her tears and quickly grabbed a dirty rag to wipe her face. She looked up to see Poe casually leaning on the gate, a self-satisfied grin on his face but concern in his eyes. BB-8 beeped hello at his feet.
"Homesick," Ellra said softly, answering Poe's unasked question.
Ellra rose and met him at the gate, wiping the last smudge of tears from her cheek.
"There's milk too," said Poe softly, pointing to her cheek. "Probably from drinking at the source."
Ellra let herself laugh, wiping at her face with her sleeve. The friendly laughter felt good in her chest. It pushed at the homesickness gently, dully.
"Glad to see familiar faces," she said, nodding to Poe and BB-8.
BB-8 booped sweetly and tapped the gate with his body. Ellra reached through and softly stroked his little round head.
"I saved you some milk," said Ellra, handing a paper cup to Poe.
He looked surprised for just a second, before accepting and drinking deeply. He was unable to stop the face he made. Fortunately, he managed not to spit.
"You hate it," laughed Ellra.
"It tastes like bitter roots," he said, smacking his lips disappointedly.
"But it makes the best ice cream."
"If you say so," he chuckled, adding his empty cup to the stack by the gate. "Thanks for, you know, for thinking of me," he said, offering Ellra the gentlest smile he was capable of. "Are you finished working?"
Ellra looked around the paddock behind her. A childish, innocent part of her thought about calling it a day and following Poe wherever he wanted to go. She smiled at the thought. She wasn't sure what was coming over her.
"I have two more cows to milk," she finally said, offering him a look of mixed regret and insinuation. "Maybe I'll see you at dinner."
"You absolutely will," he said, flashing her a blinding smile.
BB-8 let out a curious series of soft beeps and whistles that made Ellra wonder if he was saying something suggestive. Poe's eyes flashed down to his little companion and he bit his lip, apparently trying not to laugh.
Ellra didn't mind. Part of her wanted to say something suggestive too.
"I won't even ask," she said, turning back to her work.
C-3PO, Poe, and Ilya were the social landmarks that kept Ellra's days from blurring together completely. A conversation with the protocol droid here, a lunch with a friend there, separated the monotony of caring for the animals and not much else.
Well, those and the almost weekly holo conversations she had with the people of her village. They would pass around an outdated datapad and fill Ellra in on what she was missing. She would tell them about her new friends, how the animals were doing, the missions the Resistance fighters had told her about, and life on base.
"That cloudy atmosphere is not good for you," her father said. "You get paler by the day. One day your skin shall be as pearly white as that of an old Coruscant socialite."
"I still see sun a few hours a day, Father," said Ellra, smiling. "I'll never be pale. I like the clouds sometimes. They make it easier to see when I work."
"You are getting fat!" cried her cousin, Marcha, the second week.
"I am not! You just forgot what pretty looked like without me around!"
The pair dissolved into sisterly laughter.
Ellra missed her people, but she also loved her new home. It was a strange dichotomy in her heart, but she did her best to find balance.
One day, Poe and a few of the other more experienced pilots took a selection of the newer pilots out for atmospheric maneuvers.
This was Ellra's first time seeing X-wings, Y-wings, and A-wings in flight together. When her morning chores were completed, she excitedly climbed a hill not far from the main hangar and lay back in the grass to watch.
Sometimes, the starfighters all flew in mixed formations, the X-wings running a blocking line in front of a group of Y-wings; other times, the ships flew in formation by class. The X-wings were fast, light, maneuverable. The Y-wings were the opposite: heavy and slow, but they made up for it in shields and firepower.
The shining star of the entire fleet was one particular X-wing that was painted differently than the others. Most of them were a lovely silver and blue that blended into the cloudy sky, but this one was an almost vulgar shade of orange and black. The black X-wing was the leader, clearly, and flew around the other starfighters as if watching and guiding them, occasionally slipping flawlessly into the formations and backing up its brethren, then right back out.
Ellra briefly dozed off on her hilltop, the fascinating movements of the ships above her hypnotizing her into a comfortable, drowsy trance.
In her sleepy state, she envisioned herself in the cockpit of one of the starfighters, calling commands to her wingmates, answering requests for backup, blasting bad guys out of the sky. Her heart was light and bursting with joi de vivre the entire time.
At one point, she thought she heard Poe's voice.
"In formation at my eight, Lieutenant Oka. Let Red Four watch your back while you watch mine."
"Copy, Commander," she heard herself reply, falling in behind the orange and black starfighter.
Around noon, the ships all returned to the valley and landed. Ellra, stirred from her trance by the humming of the engines, watched the pilots emerge from their respective crafts and meet in the middle. The senior pilots stood and addressed the younger ones. Ellra couldn't hear them from her distance, of course, but she assumed the seniors were praising or criticizing the less experienced pilots' actions.
Shortly, most of the pilots went inside for lunch. Ellra stretched and rose from her position in the soft, green grass and followed suit.
The commissary was packed when she got there. She looked around for Poe, but he was already seated at a table surrounded by young pilots who were hanging on his every word, their dinners all forgotten in front of them.
She chuckled to herself as she waited for her food, thinking about what it would be like to be a pilot under someone like Poe Dameron. Part of her wanted to learn to fly so badly it made her heart hurt. Part of her knew she had no place in a cockpit. But the first part really didn't care what the second part thought.
As Ellra looked around for a place to sit, a strange memory she hadn't recalled before made itself known.
You're gonna make one helluva pilot someday.
Poe had said that to her. When? She wasn't sure. But she was suddenly certain he had said it to her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she sat down beside Ilya who was deep in conversation with a computer technician she was friendly with.
As she ate, Ellra thought about the way she could feel what it was like inside a cockpit, how naturally she envisioned herself there. It felt right.
But how did Poe know that? Did he know that? Why would he say what he did?
As she sprinkled spicy sauce into her stew, she decided to ask him.
After lunch, Ellra hastily returned to the cappa paddock to check on the animals before wandering through the landing field. With one hand held up to shield her eyes from the glare of the hot sun that peeked between the clouds, she scanned the valley for familiar faces. Jessika and Oddy were leaning against her X-wing, discussing a part Oddy was holding. A few mechanics Ellra knew were working on various ships, preferring the direct sunshine to the cold lighting inside the hangar. Service droids were rolling in and out of the main hangar, carrying tools and parts.
Jessika's eyes happened to land on Ellra as she wandered the valley, clearly lost.
"Ellra?" she called, stepping out of the shade of her ship.
"Looking for Poe," Ellra called back.
Jessika smiled slyly and jerked her head in the direction of the main hangar.
"A-wing," she said before waving goodbye to Ellra and returning to her conversation.
Ellra continued in the direction Jessika had indicated, spotting the ship she had only recently learned was called an A-wing. The blue and silver ship sat right outside the open maw of the main hangar, shining in the sun, with various hatches and engine compartments open.
As she approached the vintage A-wing interceptor, Ellra spotted three people in jumpsuits working on it from different angles, different tools in their hands and various parts on the ground around them. She recognized the second head mechanic, a pilot from Blue Squadron, and Poe.
"…First person to build their own shield generator for an A-wing," she heard Poe say as she arrived.
He was kneeling on the edge of the wing, soldering some exposed wiring and subtly nodding his head to a beat apparently only he could hear. His jumpsuit was tied at his waist, Ellra couldn't help thinking, merely so that the sun would shine on his tan shoulders.
"I swear to all the gods in the universe that if I have to take one more critical hit in this rattletrap, I'm going to lose it," said the pilot from Blue, her wry laughter resonating dully from the compartment in which her head was tucked. "Last one dislocated my shoulder."
"That's why you're supposed to let Poe cover you," said the mechanic in sing-song, knocking on the wall of the compartment he was working in.
"Poe's a busy boy. Can't expect him to have my ass every second," retorted the pilot.
"And! And, I wasn't even on the run that dislocated your shoulder, Iga," said Poe, looking up from his work to grin at her even though she couldn't see him.
"And Snap's just not the wingman you are," she said, looking up and pointing a big screwdriver at Poe.
"I can hear you," cried Snap from somewhere inside the hangar.
"No, you can't!" cried Poe and Iga in unison.
The mechanic chuckled to himself.
Ellra took the opportunity to politely clear her throat during the lull in conversation.
"Oh, hey, Ell," said Poe, smiling over his shoulder at her.
"Poe, can I ask you something?"
"Absolutely," he said. "One sec."
Poe set down what he was working on and hopped down from the wing of the ship. He pulled the neck of his dirty undershirt up and wiped the sweat off his face before turning and smiling at Ellra.
She stood a moment, a little sheepish now that she was here and she actually had no idea how to phrase her question. She worried her bottom lip for a moment, examining Poe's boots and the various ship parts strewn at his feet.
"Poe," she finally said, clearing her throat again, "why did you say you believe I'll be a pilot someday?"
By the way he relaxed at her query, it seemed Poe had been afraid she wanted to ask about something a bit more serious, but he smiled at her question, lazily leaning back on the hull of the craft and crossing his ankles. He absently rubbed his chin with a dirty hand, obviously contemplating his answer.
"If I tell you, you'll laugh," he said.
Ellra was completely confused by that answer. She met his eyes. "What?"
"I don't want to tell you 'cause you'll laugh at me," he repeated, trying to hide a smirk. "I didn't even think you'd heard me say that."
"Um, what if I promise not to laugh at you?" she tried.
"Pinkie promise?"
"What?"
"Never mind," said Poe, shaking his head. He looked over his shoulder at his companions and said, "Don't listen."
They tittered.
Ellra blinked but kept her eyes steady on Poe's, ready for some great tidbit of ace pilot's wisdom.
"I know in my heart that you'll be a pilot someday," he began slowly, "because when I look in your eyes, I see the stars."
"What?" cried Ellra, losing all composure. "Is that a pickup line?"
Laughter resonated from the hull of the A-wing and Poe cast a reproving look over his shoulder at his companions.
"No," he said firmly, looking back at Ellra. "Though, yeah, that'd be a good one," he added, congratulating himself with a shit-eating grin.
Ellra stood firm, not so much glaring Poe down, but certainly withering his attitude. His smile softened.
"It's not a pickup line," he assured her, his fingers absently fiddling with something under his shirt. "It's what my mother said to me the day she decided to teach me how to fly."
Ellra's face immediately fell. She recognized the tone in Poe's voice. She tilted her head down enough that a wide swath of curls hung between her eyes and his now solemn gaze, which she felt might break her heart if she kept looking.
"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I didn't know."
Poe stepped forward to clap her warmly on the shoulder. He didn't sound upset as he said, "Of course not. It's okay."
Ellra breathed and met his eyes again. He didn't step back and instead tilted his head slightly, examining her eyes.
"Yep, there they are," he said a little too softly, a little too warmly. "The stars."
Ellra swallowed hard and tried not to flush, though she knew it was involuntary. But she refused to look away from Poe's gaze.
"You can't help it," said Poe, startling her.
She thought he meant the heat creeping into her face.
"Hmm?"
He smiled again and said, "When your heart belongs to the skies, you can't help it. Your eyes give it away. You long to be up there…"
He paused a moment to look up at the swirling periwinkle and silver sky above them, briefly squinting as the sun made another appearance.
"It calls you," he finished, looking back down at Ellra, his face wistful and calm.
"Wow, Poe, that's really romantic," said Iga, smirking at them over the hatch door. "You write that yourself?"
"I make it up as I go," said Poe in mock defense, looking back at her.
"So you see that in me?" said Ellra, cautiously. She pulled a strand of hair from her face to look up at the sky for a moment. "What your mother saw in you?"
"Yup," said Poe, with almost obnoxious certainty. "I saw it that morning you watched the Y-wings take off. I'd never seen it in someone like that. I knew it instantly when I saw the look in your eyes. One of these days you're going to be a famous space pilot. An ace space pilot," he added, giving her a traditional thumbs-up.
Ellra smiled and returned the gesture.
As she turned to walk away with this wisdom, face warm and heart full, Poe suddenly added, "I really hope I'm there to see you."
Ellra paused. Finding herself braver than she thought, she said over her shoulder, "Who do you think will have been my mentor?"
She winked and walked away without waiting for a response.
Ellra never neglected her duties regarding the cappa, of course. They were still hers. She cared for them and milked them regularly and monitored their wellbeing on her datapad when she wasn't able to check on them in person. But she was thrilled to participate in the general upkeep of the Resistance in whatever little ways she could.
When she spent time watching the ships, she would end up in conversation with pilots, techs, droids, everyone really, and so she made friends, contacts. People learned of her desire to be useful in more than just one way.
First the mechanics started teaching her small tasks she could do to help them, like soldering wires or fastening panels back into place once work was done. She learned more and more simply by watching them. Between this and watching tutorials on her datapad, Ellra was quickly on her way to being the base's newest mechanic.
Poe Dameron was surprised early one morning to see Ellra sitting on top of an X-wing, listening to an older mechanic patiently explain how the T-70's split engines were more efficient than the round engines of the T-65B, the model he repaired for the Rebellion thirty-five years before.
BB-8 rolled up behind him and beeped curiously.
"Ellra," answered Poe, nodding towards the conversing pair. "She's learning about starfighters."
BB-8 beeped and whistled, looking up at Poe.
"I don't know. Seems like a good opportunity, doesn't it, buddy?"
In a moment, a service droid rolled up to the X-wing and called away the mechanic, leaving Ellra typing notes into her datapad and nodding to herself.
"Are you going to be a mechanic, Ell?" called Poe, approaching the ship.
"Poe! Hi!" she said, maybe a little too eagerly. "Hi, BB! Guess what I'm doing?"
"Smelting gold?" ventured Poe, looking around curiously. "Renovating barns?"
"Silly. The pilots and mechanics are teaching me how to fix spaceships!"
Ellra jumped down from the craft, knees bending beneath her to absorb the impact.
BB-8 beeped something encouraging.
"Thanks! I'm excited to be truly useful to the Resistance. If I get good at fixing ships, maybe I'll be comfortable enough someday to try flying them, just like Poe said!"
She was surprised at herself. She had become so relaxed and comfortable around these people she could babble about her hobbies and experiences and didn't think for one second she was being annoying or weird.
"I'm proud of you," said Poe, clapping her shoulder encouragingly. "I think you can do anything."
"I just can't get over how amazing the X-wings are. Their size, their power, their history…" said Ellra, drifting off dreamily as she looked up at the ship upon which she had just been sitting. "I can't wait to fly one."
"Do you want to sit in my cockpit?" Poe blurted suddenly.
Ellra turned to look at him and blinked curiously.
"Is that a euphemism?" she asked, trying to match his famous flirty smile.
"Do you want it to be?" he didn't hesitate to retort.
The gratuitously sensual gaze Poe shot Ellra was more than she could handle and instead of being embarrassed she burst out laughing an obnoxious laugh she didn't think herself capable of. It reminded her of Ilya's boisterous laugh.
"I'd actually love to sit in your X-wing, Poe," she said when she calmed down, the realization sinking of what that meant. "May I?"
"Yeah, I have a few minutes," he said. "Do you?"
"A few," said Ellra, biting her lip in anticipation.
Poe led her across the main hangar to the T-70 that stood out the most. In addition to a few mechanical modifications, it was painted a vivid orange and black. Ellra recognized this as the fighter that led the maneuvers a few days before.
The pretty paint job was scuffed up here and there and a couple of panels had recently been hammered out.
"This is yours," said Ellra, turning to look at Poe. It wasn't a question. It was barely a statement. More like an exclamation of awe.
"Black One," he said, wheeling a ladder up to the side as BB-8 whistled loudly.
The little droid spun quickly in place before feigning being knocked over, chirping and beeping while he did so.
"What did he say?" asked Ellra.
"He said you wouldn't believe the adventures we've had in this baby."
She laughed. "I couldn't imagine."
Poe stood beside the ladder, looking hopeful.
"Oh, am I supposed to…?" she mumbled, pointing up.
He nodded and held out one hand for assistance. She laughed the hand off and climbed.
"Throw your leg over and climb in," she heard Poe say as he climbed the ladder behind her.
The seat squeaked lightly as Ellra settled in.
"Spirits," she breathed.
The interior of the cockpit was black. The control panel in front of her was far more expansive and complex than she had imagined when looking from a slight distance. Her legs disappeared under the panel as she relaxed her posture.
Poe leaned over the side of the cockpit, his arms resting on the edge in front of him, his face close to Ellra's as she took in the sights.
She pointed shyly at the controls.
"May I?"
The smile on Poe's face almost stopped her heart.
Ellra let the fingers of her right hand trace over the flight stick in her lap. She didn't dare touch any of the toggles or buttons, but she felt the controls in her hand.
"It's so real," she whispered.
"As real as it gets," quipped Poe, smiling as he watched her.
BB-8 whistled agreement below.
Ellra closed her eyes and breathed.
She felt the spirits whisper things to her that made her heart race. An acrid, burning smell entered her nostrils and stung the back of her throat. In her mind's eye, she saw Poe's face, screwed up in concentration and…pain? She saw an explosion. She heard BB-8 tweet in fear. She heard Snap laughing through a crackling comm. She heard Poe cry out triumphantly.
"Ell?" she suddenly heard through static and she snapped her eyes open.
"Poe!"
A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek and Poe watched it nervously. It took a moment for him to say, "Are you Force sensitive?"
"What?" gasped Ellra. "I am not. I don't even believe in the Force."
Poe blinked nonchalantly.
"I think you're Force sensitive," he said simply, changing the way his weight rested on the ladder. "I've only seen that once before."
"I am not Force sensitive," she reiterated, crossing her arms on her chest; the burning scent lingered as she breathed heavily.
"Then what the hell did I just watch? What happened to you on your first morning here? What is that you keep doing?"
Ellra sunk back into the seat, not quite ready to share the information with Poe, uncertain what his reaction would be. She looked back on her experience watching the two Y-wings. She looked down at Black One's flight stick in her lap and thought about how vividly she saw Poe struggling to keep the ship under his control.
"I don't know," she quietly admitted to her folded arms.
"You don't know?" he repeated.
"My people believe in listening to the spirits," she explained. "We can sometimes feel things, understand things the spirits wish to convey. But lately… Lately I don't just feel things, I see and hear them as vividly as if I was there. It started the night you saw me watch the Y-wings take off."
Poe listened silently before looking down at BB-8. He reached across the control panel in front of Ellra and pressed a button.
Ellra looked over her shoulder at BB-8 now in the astromech socket behind the cockpit. She smiled.
"Oh, hi, little friend."
BB-8 whistled excitedly at her.
"I want to make sure I follow: Lately, you see and feel other people's experiences," said Poe, folding his arms on the edge of the cockpit again, resting his chin on them and fixing his eyes on Ellra. "Particularly pilots'," he added.
Ellra nodded solemnly. "Just glimpses," she amended. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
Poe shook his head. "Nah. I really think you're in tune with the Force. It sounds like everything I've ever heard about it, down to touching certain objects."
BB-8 beeped a confirmation.
"Father never prepared me for this," deadpanned Ellra, staring into nothingness.
Poe chuckled.
He put his hand on her shoulder and said, "I don't think it's something you need to worry about. I think, if anything, it may be useful. Especially when you decide to learn to fly."
When Ellra met Poe's gaze she was surprised by how comforted she was by the look in his dark eyes. She felt safe in ways she didn't understand.
"Thanks," she whispered, giving him the gentlest, most sincere smile she had.
Poe moved to climb down the ladder.
"Hey, Poe," said Ellra, leaning over the edge of the cockpit to look at him.
"Yeah?"
"What's the smell in here?"
"Smell?" he repeated.
"It's not engine fuel. But it burns my nose. Like an explosion?"
Poe smirked as his feet hit the ground.
"That's space," he said, looking up at her.
"Space?" she repeated.
"That's what space would smell like if you could breathe out there."
"Wow…" she whispered in awe. "I smell space…"
BB-8 whistled and booped animatedly.
After another moment of contemplation, Ellra climbed out of the cockpit.
Poe must have been waiting for her back to be turned because he suddenly said, "I'm leaving tomorrow."
She wasn't sure what to say, but she suddenly felt her heart beating in the back of her mouth and climbing down the ladder was made difficult by her slippery hands.
"I wanted you to know so you didn't worry," he said, his voice almost apologetic.
On the ground, Ellra turned to look at him.
"I think I'll worry anyway, Poe, you're my best friend," she said, doing her best to maintain eye contact.
An indignant beep interrupted whatever Poe was about to say.
"You and BB-8, of course," amended Ellra, bending down to pet the droid as he rolled out from under the ship. "When will you be back?" she asked, rising.
"We shouldn't be gone more than a few days," said Poe nonchalantly, his hands in his pants pockets. "But I asked Connix to keep you apprised. So you didn't worry," he quickly added.
Ellra couldn't keep the pleased smirk off her face. Poe matched it and said, "Don't get a big head or anything."
"How could I not?" she said, playfully nudging his arm.
Her face fell as uncertainty suddenly gripped her and she found her hand clutching the sleeve of Poe's jacket where she had just nudged him.
"May I give you a hug before you go?" she asked, using every ounce of strength in her body to ensure her voice didn't crack.
"I wouldn't have left without one."
Ellra leaned up and wrapped her arms around Poe's neck and felt his strong arms around her waist. BB-8 gently rolled against their legs.
Pride and embarrassment both told Ellra not to get too lost in the embrace, but fear and something else told her to go all-in. She let herself bury her face in the collar of Poe's jacket and squeeze him tightly. To no one's surprise, he squeezed back.
Deep in her silvery curls, soft enough no one, even BB-8, could hear, Poe whispered, "I'll come back."
Ellra wasn't even aware that she breathed, "I'll be waiting," against the side of his neck.
"Alright, that's enough!" cried one of the mechanics.
The pair let go and tried not to dissolve into embarrassed laughter.
Ellra knelt down to wrap her arms around BB-8 now.
"Be safe, my darling little friend, ok?" she said softly. "And please keep this goofball safe."
BB-8 whistled proudly and beeped something affirmative.
Ellra beamed as she planted a kiss on top of BB-8's dome.
"Wait, he gets a kiss?" gasped Poe in mock indignation. "I only got a hug!"
Laughing gently as she rose to her feet, Ellra said, bolder than ever before, "What if I promise you one when you get back?"
Poe froze.
Ellra chewed her lip but maintained a coy smile as she gazed up at him.
"I'll hold you to it," he said playfully after regaining his composure.
BB-8 whistled in agreement.
As Poe walked away with BB-8 rolling loyally at his side, Ellra smiled to herself, wondering how her heart could feel so full while she still felt so afraid.